Stupid Girl(25)
I watched him for a second or two before answering. At least he admitted it: Don’t take it personally. He was flirty with all girls. Okay, I could handle that. I had a brother just like him. Brax wanted me to roll with it? I could roll; as long as I didn’t feel closed in or threatened, everything would be okay. And so far, strangely enough, it was okay. Finally, I nodded. “Stahved.”
A throaty chuckle escaped Brax’s mouth, and he placed his hand at the small of my back. “What are you, crackin’ wise, makin’ fun of my Southie again? Let’s go.”
I smiled, and let him guide me to the front door. “Now I feel like I’m in some gangster movie, at a barber shop slash money laundering joint, slash … horse gambling ring,” I teased. Teased? Brax Jenkins had now coaxed me into teasing?
Brax rounded on me and held the door open. His mouth lifted at one corner, in a half-cocked, carefree smirk. “Hey, I know that barber shop. My friend’s mother’s Uncle Jackie runs it. It’s is as reputable as they come, that place. And I know you wanna say bahba like me, but try to refrain yourself, if at all possible. No high-jackin’ my Southie, sweetheart. I’m original.”
I shook my head and walked through the door he held open. “Holy smokes, it’ll be hard, but I’ll try.”
Brax laughed again, and was still chuckling when the hostess walked up to us. She was a pretty blonde, tall, with breasts she was obviously proud of since they popped out of the top of her v-neck shirt. Her gaze skipped over me completely and landed straight onto Brax.
“Just two?” she asked. Her eyes softened as she looked at him.
I felt Brax’s hand leave my back. I couldn’t help but lift my gaze to his.
And there it was; I saw it. Right before my eyes. Way different than the way he looked at me. The womanizing glint I’d been warned about. The cocky, devouring smile he gave the girl as he checked her out from head to toe. “For now,” he said to her. “You new? I’ve never seen you here before, sweetheart.”
I stood there, intrigued and scathing at the same time. Well, maybe not scathing, but … something. Brax’s flirting was going on right in front of me. And the hostess was flirting right back, as if I wasn’t standing there, with him. Sexual tension rolled off him. Off of her. I could feel it where I stood, and it shocked and irritated me.
Really, though, I wasn’t with him. We were there as friends—if you wanted to even call it that. I’d just met him myself. But she didn’t know that. Which made her rude and tasteless in my book. But who was I to judge? Again. I’d been fairly warned.
Finally, the hostess passed me a quick glance. The look on her face revealed surprise, probably at why Brax was even with me. Maybe I should tell her we’re brother and sister?
“This way,” she said. She wore a snug pair of jeans, low-waisted, and her tight-fitting v-neck also rose just enough over her waist to flash tanned skin beneath. I followed behind her, and noticed the extra twist she put into her walk.
What girls did to get guys’ attention was idiotic. If only they realized how ridiculous they looked. Stupid, stupid girls.
I threw a quick glance over my shoulder at Brax. His gaze was fixed on her backside. In some kind of trance. Probably his magical porno radar wiener wand was on full alert. I almost snorted out loud at the image that thought conjured.
To be honest, I was glad the whole flirty, bootie-shaking scene transpired in front of me, and right up front. That uneasy, giddy feeling I’d had earlier faded almost instantly. It made me feel very much like an idiot. Seriously. Brax? Attracted to me? And even if he was, it wouldn’t have gone anywhere. My choice. It sounded ridiculous in my head. I now felt more relaxed, like I could be myself. No second guessing. Brax was what he was, and he’d claimed nothing less from the very beginning.
The hostess stopped at a booth, and I slid in. Brax pushed in across from me, and she handed him both menus. She smiled, and I could tell she was pooching her lips out so Brax would fix on them. “Enjoy your meal.”
Under my lashes, I watched Brax’s eyes follow her sexy sauntering figure as she left. Before he caught me looking, I snatched my gaze back to my bag, which I lifted off my shoulder and set aside. When I looked up, he was studying me. I smiled at him and held out my hand for a menu. His eyes narrowed, then he handed me one.
Setting the flat, two-sided piece of laminated plastic on the table, I started scanning the choices. “So what’s good?” I asked, and looked up. “Since this is your place.”
An intense glint flickered in the depths of those odd blue eyes as he regarded me. “Well.” He set his menu aside and rested his forearms on the table. He leaned toward me. “As I said, this ain’t Boston. You won’t find any decent North Atlantic Scrod, that’s for fuckin’ sure.” He grin was lop-sided. “Chowder’s not bad. Lobster? Nah. Fried oysters, they’ll do for central Texas.”